A Sunlit Dream
by iKingBearII
Summary: We all know Harry had dreams about Ginny that made him grateful Ron didn't know Legilimency; what exactly were those dreams? Written for the latest Writing, Fanfic, and H/G Discord challenge.


Harry Potter loved his best friends. Truly, he did. Ron was the most loyal mate he could ever hope to have and Hermione was not only the brightest witch of her age but also the most caring. They had braved a series of potentially lethal challenges in their first year alone. Since then, it had only escalated and they had only grown closer.

Lately, though, they were driving him barmy. Between their incessant arguments, Ron's nonstop snogging with Lavender (though at this point it was clear he regretted his call), and Hermione's badgering about the Half-Blood Prince, Harry was ready to test out the Prince's _Sectumsempra._

Today he had awoken especially early. He wasn't sure why – he had been sleeping relatively well – but he wasn't tired, so he wasn't going to complain. It also gave him the opportunity to sneak out of the attic and the Burrow entirely, with the help of his trusty invisibility cloak, of course. It was still dark, but he knew it would be light soon. This morning was a morning for himself, so he walked to a small, secluded part of the Burrow near the pond that had a perfect view of where the sun would rise. All around him were the various noises of nature, from the rustling of the trees to various animals inhabiting the Burrow's surroundings.

Laying his invisibility cloak on the ground, he finally rested. He let the sounds wash over him and felt at peace. It was a sadly unfamiliar feeling for him, and he made the best of it. For a few minutes, he simply sat there, holding vigil over the beautiful land. The brilliant, searing pink light that heralded the rising sun slowly edged into view. It would not be long now.

Before he could continue, a gentle voice sounded near him, "Beautiful, isn't it, Harry?"

Harry started, whipping his head around, "Ginny? What are you doing up?"

The girl in question merely plopped down next to him on his cloak. "The same thing as you, I'd expect."

Harry took a good look at her, seeing her in that new light that he had been for the past few months. The not-so-innocent, teenaged sight. This part of his brain shut down at the sight of her in a large t-shirt that looked like it used to belong to Bill and red coloured knickers. He realized he was staring and turned, desperately attempting to keep his face from resembling the shade of her knickers. At the thought of her knickers, his mission failed. Simultaneously, he realised he had a realized blood flow issue. As surreptitiously as possible, he shifted, cursing his rather old – and subsequently uncharacteristically tight – pyjamas.

She giggled and he realised he was at serious risk of looking like an idiot. "I wish I had realized how beautiful the Burrow was sooner. Almost makes it worth waking up early every day." He prattled, though his comment did raise a curious question. "And what is it with you being up early? You're not a morning person."

Ginny leaned closer, resulting in a rather curious mix of panic and happiness, "If you shared a room with Phlegm, you'd want to get up early too, if only to avoid her."

Harry nodded, accepting her logic. Turning back to the East, he saw that the searing pink had deepened into a beautiful red. _Like Ginny's fiery mane of hair_, he thought. _Like Ginny's knickers, _added the devil on his shoulder.

The vivid sunrise helped him realize something. Every day was a new day, and with every new experience was a potential for great rewards and also great losses. He had a mad Dark Lord hunting him down, he truly had no idea if he would live through the War. One of Harry's deepest fears was the thought of him dying without having felt the love his parents had. He hadn't even had a good kiss.

He wasn't sure what it was that made him act. Maybe it was the rising sun, maybe it was the realization that any day could be his last; in truth, he didn't care. He turned to Ginny and saw her staring hard at him, that blazing look that she got when she was passionate about something. He had a speech ready, some confession of his care, Dean-be-damned, but her eyes quelled his words before they had started. He wasn't sure who leaned in first, but suddenly their lips were connected, and Harry was pressing down on her.

The kiss was deep, reckless, and so full of passion that logical Harry was overwhelmed. Teenage Harry, on the other hand, had no problems taking control. Harry tore her loose-fitting t-shirt off, growling in primitive satisfaction as he realised she had nothing on underneath it. One hand moved to her head, burying itself in her vibrant hair as his other hand greedily glided over her creamy flesh, finding her nipple and squeezing gently. Her following moan broke the last of his constraints and he thrust his hips against her, groaning at the feeling. She soon joined him, moving against him as they found a tempo that suited them.

This was the best feeling in the world, he realised. Being here, with Ginny, under the climbing sun, sunlight heating them as they melded against each other. Each breathy moan from Ginny pushed Harry harder, faster, and he realised he was nearing his limit. It amazed him how much he felt, for the lower halves of their bodies were covered, if barely. Yet the friction burned him, searing through his body and soul.

For once, he found himself fighting his climax. How could he look forward to something so much but also never want it to come? Harry couldn't hold on any longer, and he came with a choked groan, jerking desperately against her. He collapsed, suddenly enervated. Mindful of her, he rolled over, and he saw the golden sun above in all its glory. It was a vibrant promise; a promise of tomorrow, and the day after, and happiness. They had each other. Harry realised he was laughing: A full, genuine laugh like he hadn't since Sirius had died. Ginny was laughing too, her melodic laugh joining his in a song of love and life.

Harry was waking now, despite how much he would rather lay next to Ginny in this world fueled by his deepest desires. Unfortunately, the Ghoul banged loudly on a pipe and Harry jerked awake fully, groaning as he felt the state of his pyjamas. A quick and stealthy cleaning charm somewhat solved his issue, and Harry's eyes finally took in his situation.

To his immense relief, Ron had not awoken, despite the Ghoul's attempt. Harry knew he would not be able to look Ron in the eye, and he was truly grateful that Ron had never had any aptitude for Legilimency. Harry would have been in deep trouble if he had. Even so, Harry felt the keen sting of loss. There, things were simple. There were no trials, no tribulation. There, in that small slice of peace, Harry was free. His gaze landed on the risen sun, filtered by the window of the Burrow, savouring the memory of his dream; this was one he would not forget. The sun beamed its rays through the flimsy attic window.

It was nothing like that sunlit dream, though.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Just a quick note: This was a challenge from the folks over at the "Writing, Fanfic, and H/G" discord server. If you're interested, find deadwoodpecker on Tumblr, she posted the discord link there. If you do join up, let me know! It's a great place and I hope to see some of you there.**

**I hope to participate in more of these challenges and I know that we have some planned for later. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed!**


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